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Month: January 2020

GOING ON A FLY HUNT

I have spent half of this evening
hunting the annoying buzz
of flies ploughing through
the sticky, humid, summer heat
of my living room;
with one last flick of the
kitchen tea towel,
I think at last the hunt is over
and sleep awaits.

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BAPTISM

The river swimming hole
Is deep and clear and
the sweat and grime of
a day’s labour
is lost in the first plunge
beneath its cool waters;
I shall return tomorrow
in need again of its
deep cleansing.

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VAPOUR

It came, a bank of white cloud
surfing the top of Burnett,
tipping over the top
and cascading down
the side of the mountain
until it was swallowed by the green bush
and was gone.

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